


A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

by faithinthepoor



Category: Bridesmaids (2011)
Genre: Canon Het Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithinthepoor/pseuds/faithinthepoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by watching the Line-O-Rama bonus feature on the Bridesmaids DVD - in particular the moment where Becca and Rita, post kiss, are defending their marriages</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

Kevin wakes her with a cup of coffee and a saccharine smile.

“Come on sleeping beauty it’s time to get up,” he says as he ruffles her hair.

She pulls the covers up to her chin and scrunches her nose. “It’s so early,” she complains. “I need a little longer, I haven’t had enough beauty sleep.”

“Princess you don’t need any beauty sleep,” Kevin says with an indulgent smile, “but if you like I can give you five more minutes.”

“That would be great,” she mumbles and rolls over.

He chuckles and leaves the room telling her, “I’ll be back in four minutes and thirty-eight seconds.”

She should find his behaviour endearing but instead it sets her teeth on edge and gives her blasphemous thoughts. Becca looks at one of the crosses on the wall and offers up a silent prayer. Her action fails to bring her solace and she is starting to think that having two crucifixes in the room simply isn’t enough. When she contemplates what she is up against today she wants to drape herself in a thousand crosses but she can’t because that would violate Helen’s strict rules with regard to accessories.

It seems impossible that she should be dreading today. Weddings are magical things. Two people pledging their love and devotion before God is something to be cherished and yet all she feels is fear. She is deeply ashamed of herself, and rightly so, so it’s no surprise that as she glances around the room the religious iconography seems to be mocking her. 

Becca puts a pillow over her head and wills the world to disappear. The world doesn’t listen. It keeps on spinning and its revolutions bring back Kevin who is carrying a tray of tea and toast. His behaviour confuses her as normally Kevin would rather burn a Bible then risk the possibility of crumbs getting into the bed. 

He sets the tray down and says, “This does not set a precedent. The rule about no food outside of the kitchen or designated dining areas still stands but you seem nervous about today and I thought this would help. I’ve also realised that it’s probably a good idea for you to avoid coffee.” He pushes the tea towards her and removes the mug that he brought earlier. She should have spent less time in her head and more time drinking her coffee because it seems that Kevin giveth and Kevin taketh away.”

“Do I really seem nervous to you?”

“A little. I figured it was just delayed prewedding jitters. You didn’t have any of those prior to our nuptials and maybe you feel you missed out on something.”

“You didn’t see me the morning of our wedding,” she points out.

“Oh. I see. I’d always assumed you were fine because you seemed completely serene when you arrived at the church.”

“That’s because I was. I’m not anxious about today. I just don’t feel very well. Do you think Lillian would forgive me if I said I couldn’t make it?”

“That’s not really a serious question is it?”

“No. Of course not.” Short of Ebola, illness probably is not an acceptable excuse under the circumstances. The problem is that no one understands her circumstances. She wants to attend the wedding, even if she were bleeding out of her eyeballs she’d want to be there for Lillian. On top of that the wedding is bound to be lovely. She wants to see the fruits of Helen’s super organised, colour coded, flowchart of a labour. Helen has dictated every single breath Becca should take today and it does give her a small amount of satisfaction to know that by sitting in bed right now she is in violation of Helen’s very precise timetable. 

The wedding isn’t the problem. Not in and of itself. The thing that she can’t face, the thing that makes her want to avoid this event like the plague, is that Rita will be there. She doesn’t want to have to deal with Rita. Seeing Rita at the rehearsal dinner nearly killed her and the wedding is only going to be worse. Still, she knows she has no choice and that the problem is of her own making so she nibbles her toast and tries to convince herself that everything will be ok. This act yields nothing but a huge wave of acidic reflux so she, once again, turns to the crosses and makes a last ditch appeal to God. She doesn’t ask for much, just that things go smoothly and that she doesn’t ever have to be alone with Rita.

Apparently God does not hear her prayer, or he believes that it shouldn’t be answered, because Lillian goes AWOL and most of the bridal party disappear in order to look for her. The net result of this leaves her in a room with Rita, the beauticians that Helen hired and a rapidly growing stomach ulcer. She has never been so grateful to have people want to pour hot wax on her and out rip hairs. As far as she is concerned they can pull every single hair from her body because if they weren’t there she would be all alone with her own personal Mary Magdalene.

It seems she has not completely fallen from God’s favour as Lillian is located and the wedding proceeds as planned. Perhaps not with the clockwork precision that Helen had intended but to an outside observer it would have seemed flawless. 

The wedding really is beautiful. Ridiculous and ostentatious but beautiful nonetheless. She gets swept up in the moment and lets her guard down. At least that’s what she tells herself because she has no other way to explain the fact that she ran her hand down Rita’s back whilst Wilson Phillips were performing. After that she’s a lot more careful. She nurses one drink most of the night and during the toasts she takes judicious sips. At any other wedding Becca would mingle with the other guests but on this occasion she can only sit at the bridal table with her eyes firmly locked on Kevin.

When she manages to survive the formal part of the evening her anxiety lessens. She feels that the rest of the night will be smooth sailing. She’s much more settled now that she can spend her time dancing with Kevin or cemented firmly by his side. They are a sickening new couple; complete co-dependence is what everyone expects of them so no one will think twice if she is clingy. It seems that Becca makes plans and God laughs because just when she has managed to safely attach herself to Kevin he goes ahead and cuts the umbilical cord. Worse still he does this in response to Rita asking if she can steal his wife away for a little while.

She can’t think of a face saving way to decline Rita’s request and so she allows herself to be led off into the grounds. Rita takes her to a secluded spot where they are obscured by a hedge that towers over them. 

“Is this the part where you tell me that we need to talk?” Becca asks.

“This would be the part where I tell you that I have been dying to be alone with you all day.”

“We shouldn’t do this. Anyone could come along.”

“Becca this place is a fucking palace. They could set up a manhunt and it would take them hours to find us. I doubt anyone will stumble across us by accident.”

“I’d be more than happy for someone to stumble across us. I don’t want to be alone with you. I don’t want be with you at all.”

“I don’t think you mean that,” Rita says as she invades Becca’s personal space.

“Rita I’m here with my husband.”

“I know that. I’m here with my husband too. However right now neither of them are here. There’s just you and me.”

Becca’s palms feel moist and itchy. “Kevin’s a good man. He’s sweet and caring and everything I could ask for. He brought me breakfast in bed this morning.”

“Did he fumigate the room afterwards and bring in some kind of CSI team to make sure that there was no trace of your meal left in his bed?”

“It’s not his bed,” she says defiantly.

“And yet you let him control everything that happens there.”

“No I don’t.”

“I must be mistaken. I was under the impression that you weren’t exactly a fan of clinical sex that only happens in the dark, under the covers, and after you’ve had a surgical scrub.”

“I don’t think it’s proper for you to know so much about my sex life.”

“Of course you don’t think it’s proper,” Rita says and steps closer to her, “but that’s not what really upsets you.”

“You don’t know anything about me. You would have no idea what upsets me.”

Rita leans in and Becca can feels the older woman’s breath against her skin, “I know I make you uncomfortable.”

Becca feels flustered and the best response she can manage is, “Maybe a little.”

“Only a little?” Rita asks as she moves her hand up and down Becca’s arm. The hand hovers above Becca’s flesh, never quite touching, and it hurts Becca to realise just how much she craves the contact.

“You ruined everything,” she says sadly.

“It’s the same for me,” Rita sounds bitter.

“No it’s not. You were miserable before. As I recall you were quite vocal about that.”

“That’s true,” Rita places her hand on Becca’s upper arm and she feels branded. Claimed. “But I had the long suffering wife act down to an art. I don’t get to complain anymore. Now I have to tell myself that I like my life. That it’s what I want.”

“I’m so sorry that you can’t whinge with the same heartfelt passion as you used to.”

“My, my I think that was sarcasm. I like that coming from you.” Rita moves her hand up to Becca’s neck and her thumb traces along Becca’s jaw line.

She swallows and says, “Well I’m a changed woman now.” She then looks away so Rita can’t see the tears that have formed in her eyes.

Rita grabs Becca’s face between her hands. She can feel her whole body stiffen but she allows her head to be turned back around. Rita looks at her tenderly and says, “Look at those big eyes glistening with tears. You really are a Disney Princess, aren’t you?”

“Not anymore,” Becca replies and drops her head.

“Hey now,” Becca finds herself enveloped in Rita’s arms which is the absolute worse thing that could happen, “you can’t think that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

“Sweetheart there’s nothing wrong with you,” Rita rubs a hand over Becca’s back. It’s probably meant to be a comforting gesture but all it does is undermine Rita’s assertion because there is something very wrong about the way Becca’s body responds to Rita’s touch.

“I don’t even like watching Disney movies any more,” she says forlornly.

Rita kisses the top of Becca’s head, “Honey that’s not a bad thing.”

“How can you say that?”

“It’s ok to think that life is more complicated than a cartoon.”

She looks up so she can meet Rita in the eye, “But we still watch them. Kevin watches them all the time and I have to sit beside him feeling dirty because I don’t deserve to watch them anymore.”

“Oh Becca,” Rita says and then lets out a laugh.

“This is not a laughing matter. I’m should be good enough to watch those films. I should think that those films are beautiful. I should be happy that I found my Prince Charming.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you should be. What’s happened is horrible and you shouldn’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not sorry I laughed but I am sorry I played a part in doing this to you.”

“You never should have,” Becca glances around to make sure they are still alone and they then drops her voice to a whisper, “kissed me.”

“I’m not sure that I’m sorry about the kiss either.”

“So what exactly is it that you are sorry about?”

‘I’m sorry,” Rita says as she puts her arms around Becca’s waist and pulls her tightly to her, “that it seems that I’ve, in effect, stolen your innocence and messed up both our lives and that all we got for that was one tiny kiss.”

“Are you telling me you wanted more than that?” her voice sounds strange, like it’s not really coming from her. Which makes sense given these are words she should not be saying.

“Of course I did. I still do.” Rita places a wet kiss on Becca’s neck which somehow manages to suck all of the moisture from Becca’s mouth. “Don’t you?”

The desert that is Becca’s mouth is apparently incapable of making sound and so in response she hesitantly shakes, then nods, then shakes her head.

“I will not do this if you’re not sure. I don’t want to make you feel the way my husband makes me feel.”

“Of course I’m not sure. How could anyone be sure?”

“Fair point. Let’s make this simpler. Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes,” she admits, her voice barely more than a squeak.

“Good enough.”

Rita leans in for a kiss but at the last second Becca turns her face away and Rita’s lips collide with Becca’s cheek. Rita lets out a groan of frustration. “I’m scared,” Becca offers up as an explanation.

“Scared enough that you don’t want to do this?”

“Terrified that if we do this I’ll never be able to go to Disneyland again.”

“Would that be so bad?” Rita whispers into her ear.

“It would be terrible.”

“What if I took you there?”

“You would do that for me?”

“Right now it seems like a very small to pay.” Rita’s fingers press into the skin between the joints of Becca’s spine. Becca has never had a massage; she always felt that it was inappropriate for anyone other than her husband to touch her in area that, unless one is bathing, should always be covered with clothing. She is starting to think that her anti-massage stance may have been a mistake.

“Wait is this something that I would have to do as a tagalong with your family?”

“Fuck no. The boys would do nothing but protest about having to go and then when they got there they’d be running around setting off firecrackers and doing their best to cop a feel of girls in the Haunted Mansion. Well at least the nine year old would. I don’t want to think what the older two delinquents might get up to. We’d be lucky to leave there without one of them having a criminal record. And trust me there is no way in the world that I want to take my husband on a trip with you.”

“You don’t need to promise to take me places just to get me to kiss you.”

“Don’t you want to go with me?” Rita actually sounds hurt.

“It’s not that. It’s just seems way too big a step. Also I get the feeling that Disneyland isn’t really your thing.”

“Of course it’s not my thing,” Rita removes a hand from Becca’s back and places it on the side of the redhead’s face. “It is, however, important to you and so I would get you cotton candy and ride on the teacups and let you get photos with whatever character you want. Do you think I wouldn’t do a good job at that kind of thing or is it that I’m not a suitable Prince Charming?”

“You’re not Prince Charming at all. Certainly not the prince I spent my life dreaming about.”

“Fine. It was just a silly idea anyway.” Rita lets go of Becca.

Before Rita can move away Becca places her hands on her shoulders and holds her captive. “I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. Prince Charming doesn’t have the same appeal for me that he once did.”

“Is that why you can’t watch the films anymore?”

“Amongst other things.”

“Oh,” Rita’s eyes light up and she places her hands on Becca’s hips, “is it that you think more of Cinderella than Prince Charming now? Is that what makes you feel dirty?”

“I see the films differently now. I didn’t realise how strong a lot of the princesses were. I feel like I undervalued them because I was more interested in the happily ever after than I was in the story that proceeded it. That seems wrong but it’s not what makes me feel bad. I feel like I’m not good enough because I’m not pure and wholesome like they are. I’m not like them though, they aren’t really women, they are really rather sexless. It worries me that the sexless thing may have been what Kevin and I liked about them in the first place. What made us feel comfortable and happy.”

“Well at least you know it doesn’t always have to be like that.”

“But it does. I married Kevin. I made a vow before God.”

“Did that vow include passionless, repetitive, prosaic sex?”

“Did your vows?”

“Touché. No they didn’t.”

“It’s not the same for you. You don’t have the same beliefs that I do. When I said forever I meant forever.”

“I meant that too. I loved him like crazy. I thought he was the only one I’d ever want.”

“Well at least you’ve been married for forever.”

“That sounds like a scathing comment about my age. You are making me feel like I need botox.”

“You know I think you’re beautiful,” and she really does. She still thinks Rita is more beautiful than Cinderella and although there is a sweeter smell of a perfume, that Rita must save for special occasions, Becca can still detect the underlying note of pine needles. 

“For an old woman.”

“I didn’t bring age into this at all.”

“You said I’d been married for forever.”

“I meant it as a compliment. At least you got many years into your marriage before you considered straying.”

“I’m not sure that timing really has anything to do with it.”

“Timing could have everything to do with it. How do I know this isn’t just your midlife crisis?”

“How do I know this isn’t because you’ve only slept with one person and you don’t know if there are better offers out there?” Rita counters.

“I don’t know. The only thing I do know is that I’m a newlywed and this shouldn’t be happening to me.”

“This shouldn’t be happening to me either. I have a boring, run of the mill, comfortable life. I don’t want to risk turning that into divorce settlements and custody battles.”

“So why are we standing here?”

“I can’t answer for you but for me it’s because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Really?” Becca gulps.

“Truly,” Rita says. “This has never happened to me before.”

“Should I be flattered?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve haven’t had thoughts about other people. I’ve had my fair share of wet dreams and masturbatory fantasies but I’ve never wanted to take it further than that.”

“Am I,” she can feel the heat in her face, “am I the only…..well you know?”

“Are you the first young, married, devoutly Christian, conservative that I’ve ever fancied? Probably.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I had a lot of experimental sex in my twenties. Some of it was regrettable. A lot of it was forgettable. Some of it was with woman. I never disliked being with the fairer sex but I wasn’t really into it. If anything I wanted to be more into it than I was. I certainly never thought I’d be lusting after a woman the way I do you.”

Being desirable is a foreign concept to her and she’s worried she likes it a whole lot more than she should. “I’ve never been with a woman.”

“Of course you haven’t.”

“Hey. You don’t know me.”

“I know that Jesus was you boyfriend before you met Kevin and I doubt you were sneaking off for any girl on girl action while you were all hot and heavy with your Lord and saviour.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever even been hot and heavy.”

“Not even on your own?”

“That’s not something that I do.”

“What? Not ever?” Rita looks at her as though she has three heads.

“I don’t like the thought of doing that knowing that God’s watching me.”

“So how do you feel about God watching us now?” Rita pulls their hips together and then rests her forehead on Becca’s

That really is the million dollar question and it turns out the answer to it is soul destroying. Even if they do nothing more, even if they walk away now and Becca’s greatest sins are a drunken kiss when she thought she was about to die and some extra-martial flirting, she is doomed. She knows what she feels and what she thinks. She knows what she wants and she knows that God knows every sordid detail. “I can only hope that he shuts his eyes.”

“If he did then would it be ok for me to do this?’ Rita touches her lips to Becca’s, light and fleeting. It is almost nothing, God could have blinked and missed it, but it changes everything. 

She closes her own eyes and says, “Well I can’t pretend this is just something I did because I consumed hard liquor for there first time in my life anymore.”

“Are you ok with that?” Rita asks.

“Not really.”

“Would you prefer that I go?”

“I didn’t say that,” she takes Rita’s hand in her own to makes it clear that she doesn’t want her to leave.

“You had me worried for a minute there.”

“Only for a minute? Then you are lucky. I’ve done nothing but worry since that plane trip.”

“I don’t like the thought of causing you distress.”

“Too late for that. What we did is on my mind all the time. I even dream about it.”

“I don’t want to give you nightmares.”

“They’re not nightmares,” she’s ashamed to admit.

“Really? Well that is interesting. You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.”

“I don’t think I could do that.”

“So what about Disneyland? Do you think you could do that? Is it a date?”

She ignores the way the word date makes her insides squirm and thinks about how excited the possibility of spending more time with Rita makes her feel. “I’d really like that. But what would be in it for you?”

“Well being in a hotel room with you has a whole lot of appeal for a start and when it comes to Disneyland I’d get to have your company. I was also hoping that I might get to put my arm around you while we walk around and if I’m really lucky that I’d get to drag you off to a quiet corner and kiss your pretty mouth until our lips hurt.”

“That doesn’t really seem appropriate for Disneyland.”

“That’s funny because that was totally me trying to be appropriate. The truth is I’d really like to take you somewhere and fuck your brains out but out of respect to you and your feelings about your magical kingdom I was setting the bar a little tamer.”

Becca knows she should probably thank Rita for her attempt at thoughtfulness but her mind is focused on other things. “You really want to have sex with me?

“Isn’t that what this is all about?”

“We barely know each other. We certainly don’t know one another well enough to be in love.”

“Who said anything about love?”

“What we are talking about is a sacred act. It should be reserved for the person you love.”

“Well I don’t hate you if that counts for anything.”

“It’s not the same.”

Rita looks annoyed, “I don’t think I’ll be able to say anything that will change your mind.”

“And really that is for the best. We…” Becca’s words die on her lips. Rather they are killed. Swallowed whole by a punishing kiss. A kiss that she should stave off but doesn’t. She wraps her arms tightly around Rita and kisses back. She gives as good as she gets.

Her hands begin to explore Rita’s body and then all of a sudden she is touching air. Rita has stepped back and is clearly trying to compose herself. “We have to stop.”

“I thought you wanted this,” she has a horrible feeling that she’s been set up. That at any second her husband and friends are going jump out from behind the hedge. They are going to laugh and point and Kevin will disown her while Rita mocks her for being so easy to seduce.

“I want this so much.” Rita sounds genuine but Becca refuses to let herself be reassured. “I want to rip that dress off you and throw you to the ground right now.” To Becca’s great surprise she finds she wants that too. “We can’t though. Not here. Helen has photographers all over this place. They are like fucking paparazzi hunting down prey. I’ve already messed up your lipstick. I won’t send you back looking anymore dishevelled than you already are.”

“What if we never get another chance?” Becca is starting to think she must be possessed because there is no way that the real Becca would even think such a thing let alone say it aloud. She needs an exorcism but neither her or the demon possessing her want one. 

“Our time will come,” Rita comes forward and wipes the lipstick smear off Becca’s face. “I promised to take you to Disneyland and I meant it. Now you need to go and be a dutiful wife.”

“I really don’t want to,” she says with a pout.

“Trust me. Neither do I.”

She manages to play her part. She dotes on Kevin and hangs on his every word. When a slow song comes on she takes him to the dance floor and doesn’t take her eyes off his. If he senses anything is wrong, or that she is tyring too hard, he doesn’t say anything. At the end of the night Kevin grabs her hand and leads her out. “You look really beautiful,” he tells her. “I hope you had a fabulous night.”

“Helen is an expert organiser. It would have been almost impossible not to have an amazing time.”

“You don’t think hiring a band just to sing one song was a little over the top?”

“Things were over the top before that,” she says with a smile.

“I can’t argue with that. There was a lot going on. Our wedding looks boring by comparison.”

She squeezes his hand and pulls him to a stop. “Does that worry you?”

“Only if it makes you sad about our wedding. I wanted to make that day perfect for you.”

“Oh Kevin it was. You must know that.”

“It was meant to be a fairytale but when I look at tonight I feel like I missed the mark.

“Their fairytale is just different to ours. That doesn’t make it better.”

“I hope that’s true.”

“Of course it’s true.” She gives him a peck on the cheek.

He places a small kiss on her nose, “Good, because you really are my fairytale princess.”

If Kevin was trying to stab her in the heart he couldn’t have done a better job. She wonders if he suspects what she’s been up to but she honestly doesn’t think that the possibility would even cross his mind. She is his Disney Princess and Disney Princesses don’t go skulking off to canoodle and organise inappropriate future rendezvous with someone else. They certainly don’t do this with another woman. Another married woman. 

He’s not a bad man and he’s a good husband and she really wishes she was still the person he married. That she was still the pure as the driven snow girl who lived to finished his sentences. She’s not snow white anymore, not in any sense, and she’s not sure she deserves a prince on a white horse. To be honest she’s not sure that she even wants one but she married Kevin and she owes it to him to try and make it work.

She snuggles next to him in the back of the car on the way home and tells herself that she can do this. That she can be a good wife, a good person, a good Christian. She promises herself that she won’t contact Rita. That she will close the door on that chapter and on the temptation and sin that accompany it. Under no circumstances will she have anything to more do with Rita.

At the time she felt resolute but it turns out to be a resolution she can’t keep. She doesn’t want to hurt Kevin but she can’t control the palpitations she gets when Rita sends her a text with a picture of Cinderella and suggests that they stay at the Disney Grand Hotel and Spa.

She feels terrible when she tells Kevin that some of the girls are taking a trip to Disneyland to make up for the ruined trip to Vegas but it doesn’t stop her. She’s going to go to hell because she’s lying and also because she is going somewhere so special without him. 

Her guilt grows as the trip approaches and she has frequent thoughts of cancelling but never seems to be able to follow through. When the day arrives and Kevin kisses her goodbye on his way to work she has to go the bathroom and throw up. She is cleaning her teeth for the sixth time since that event when the doorbell rings. It’s almost enough to make her vomit all over again but she manages to pull herself together and to answer the door.

Rita is standing there with a bottle of champagne in her hand. “I thought we should have a drink before we head off to the airport. It might make things easier,” she says with a shrug. Becca gives Rita an awkward hug and then takes the bottle from her and heads inside. Rita drags her luggage over the doorstep and closes the door behind her.

Becca is almost finished pouring the champagne when she feels arms circle her from behind. She nearly drops the bottle when Rita kisses the back of her neck and tells her, “It’s ok.” Becca picks up the glasses and turns around. She offers one to Rita and watches as the blonde makes it disappear in a single gulp. A mischievous smile crosses Rita’s face and she says, “Your turn.” 

Becca attempts to dispatch of her drink in a similar manner but finds she can only take slow sips, “I’m sorry it seems I need a lot more practise at this.”

“It’s not a competition. I just want to get you drunk so that I can have my way with you.”

“You don’t need to get me drunk for that.”

“Aren’t you full of surprises?”

“I do my best,” Becca states and kisses Rita. 

“And all good surprises it seems.” Rita kisses her again in what, without contest, qualifies as the most passionate kiss of Becca’s life. With Kevin open mouthed kissing counts as risqué, possibly vulgar. She never imagined that she would be involved in a kiss that resulted in her getting lifted up onto the kitchen counter and letting someone unbutton her shirt. She has a camisole on underneath but when Rita ends the kiss Becca feels naked.

“Wow,” Becca says.

“Not a response I’ve ever had before,” Rita states but she doesn’t look unhappy.

“Well then people have been remiss.”

“Thank you.” Rita looks up at her. “You look gorgeous by the way.” Rita pushes Becca’s bangs back and asks her, “Did he put your headband in today?”

“Yes he did.”

“I’m surprised you still let him do that.”

“I have to. I feel so guilty.”

“Oh sweetie. It’s not too late. We don’t have to go.”

Becca looks down and the first things she sees are Rita’s breasts. Between that and the fact that she has her legs firmly wrapped around Rita it is clear that it’s far too late to turn back. “We are definitely going,” she says with a force that frightens her a little. “I’m just sorry that we have to go to the airport so soon. It means that we have to wait until we check into the hotel before I get to do the things I want to do to you.”

“There are other options. There are the bathrooms at the airport and it would be my pleasure to induct you into the mile high club.” Rita pulls Becca off the bench and she finds herself being carried to the door.

“Put me down. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Becca you are tiny. I’m totally fine.”

“I don’t doubt your strength. It’s just think you should save it for more important things.”

“As you wish.” Rita says but she doesn’t but put her down until she reaches the front door.

“We can’t go yet,” Becca heads back to the kitchen. “I have to clean the glasses.”

“Just leave them,” Rita says.

“I can’t. I really don’t want Kevin to come home to an open bottle of champagne and two glasses.”

“Couldn’t we just dirty more glasses?”

“That would be one way of doing it,” Becca says but she cleans the glasses and puts them away.

When she’s finished with her task she turns and finds Rita swigging from the champagne bottle. Rita offers her the bottle and says, “Here, have some.”

It’s not something that she would normally do but nothing about this trip falls into the category of things that she would normally do. She attempts to look calm as she upends the bottle but somehow the liquid misses her oesophagus and goes straight for her windpipe. She doubles over coughing and spluttering. Once she’s certain that she will be able to breathe properly she stands up and looks sheepishly at Rita. “Well that is not how I wanted things to go. I wanted things to be perfect. I look a mess now and I don’t have time to change.”

“You look lovely. The only thing that needs to change it this,” Rita pulls the headband out of Becca’s hair. “At the risk of making you feel more guilty I want it to be clear that for the duration of this trip you are not his.” Rita runs her fingers through Becca’s hair. “Much, much better.”

“If you say so,” she says without enthusiasm. 

“Don’t be like that. I’m about to take you to the happiest place of Earth.” Her words could be innocent but the look Rita fires at Becca means that there is no doubt about their meaning.

In spite of all her misgivings Becca finds herself laughing, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Fine with me. Now,” Rita grabs Becca’s hand, “are you ready to go?”

Becca kisses Rita on the lips, “I believe I am.” In a funny way it’s true. This might be the worst idea of her life but if Rita’s right, for a little while at least, Disneyland really will be the happiest place on Earth for the both of them.


End file.
